


A Pleasant Surprise

by thesecretdetectivecollection



Category: Football RPF
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 17:14:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9281762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesecretdetectivecollection/pseuds/thesecretdetectivecollection
Summary: "Holy Shit." Okay, yeah, maybe there were more romantic things Jordan could have said after being kissed by Adam Lallana.





	

_“Holy shit.” …_ yeah, okay, maybe there were more romantic things Jordan could have said.

 

To say Jordan’s expecting it would be, quite honestly, a lie.

  
He knows his best mate’s attractive, of course—come _on_ , he has eyes, after all. He’s kind of gorgeous, Adam is, with his hair and his face and his beard and his muscles and that tattoo curling around his side and flexing whenever he moves, and he can see it whenever Adams shirt rides up a bit, which it does often, but not nearly often enough, if you ask Jordan.  
  
Anyway, Adam’s attractive. Jordan knows that. But he’s more than just attractive, though. He’s kind, and funny, and smart, and caring in little soft unexpected ways that make Jordan’s heart squeeze in his chest because _oh, he was thinking of me_.

  
Adam does things like getting Jordan coffee on his way in to Melwood, from that little corner coffee shop they went to that one time. And the coffees _perfect_ , exactly the way Jordan likes it. And Adam takes him places—they like the same sorts of films, for the most part, and sometimes they go to see cartoons and sometimes it’s war movies. Sometimes it’s space movies. (Jordan is afraid of space, terrified by its vastness and mercilessness and its silence, but he’ll go see space movies with Adam, because Adam loves space, loves the science of it and the exploration of it and the wild optimistic beauty of it, charting the unknown.)

He adores Adam, loves spending time with him on and off the pitch.  
  
And there’s something about him–after Stevie leaves and the armband lands on Jordan’s shoulders— _that’s the sort of thought that would make Adam laugh,_ he thinks, the idea of the little armband stretched across his shoulders—anyway, after Stevie leaves, Jordan doesn’t complain about the captaincy. To anyone.

Lucas helps immensely, of course. Stevie might have spoken to him before he left, or maybe he didn’t have to. But Lucas has known him long enough to read what Jordan needs without him having to actually _ask_ , and just steps up and fills in the gaps.

Milly helps too, of course—he’s everything a man can ask for in a vice, really, but Milly doesn’t know him so well, and he’s older, this perfect beautiful person who’s so flawless that he makes Jordan want to be stronger, tougher, _better_.

But Adam… Adam is the sort of lad you could just _talk_ to. Jordan tells Adam things he doesn’t tell anyone else, casually over coffee, or as they’re waiting in line at the cinema, or at their favorite corner table at Nando’s. Adam has something about him that lets Jordan say things, deep, secret things, without _feeling_ vulnerable at all. And he’s casual, but not careless, about those things. He treats Jordan’s confessions as normal, and tries his best to help find a solution when he can, and to listen and empathize when he can’t. And he’s perfect, really, knows what the weight of the armband is like, but is far enough from it now to provide a little perspective. He can tell Jordan when he’s overreacting and when he’s completely justified. He tells Jordan when he’s been rash and when he’s been right in dealing with problems.

He’s just… perfect. Devastatingly handsome, irresistibly charming and kind and sweet and Jordan could talk to him all day. Could talk to him forever, probably. If there was only one person Jordan could talk to for the rest of his life, it would be Adam.

  
  
Yeah, okay, so maybe Jordan’s a little bit in love with his best mate. But Adam is just… _Adam_. And Jordan’s just his best mate.

Which is fine.

Which is enough.  
  
So it’s not that out of the ordinary for Adam to take him out to the cinema, though it is a bit odd that he insists on paying for both their tickets and their food, which, as always, is a secret between them. Nobody needs to know about the small box of popcorn they share, let alone the butter they add to it. It happens infrequently enough, and they always go for a few extra runs the next week to make up for it.  
  
They watch a thriller, and when things are at their most tense, Adam takes hold of his hand, and that’s… a first, but this film is more intense than most of the ones they’ve watched together before, so Jordan decides to be a good friend and let Adam hold his hand for as long as he needs to. He won’t even say anything about it when they leave. It can just be a here thing. Jordan feels a strange sudden urge to watch more scary films with Adam. His hands are nice—dry and soft and warm, and they’re the perfect size to fit with Jordan’s.  
  
_I’m just being a good friend_ , he reminds himself.  
  
And then when things are finally resolved, he hears Adam let out a sigh of relief, and as the main characters get their final kiss, Adam lets go of Jordan’s hand and presses his fingertips to his jaw instead, turning his head gently towards him. He leans in, and presses his lips to Jordan’s.

Jordan’s never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth, and while that hasn’t worked out so well for the Trojans, it’s sure as hell served Jordan well. He kisses Adam back, lifts a hand to the back of his neck and pulls him in closer, and he can taste the salt from the popcorn and it’s lovely, and he gets a faint hint of the Swedish fish Adam sneaks now and again, and he always shares with Jordan when he does. That sweet, unremarkable flavor contrasts with the salt and it’s so incredibly lovely, he almost can’t stand it.  
  
“Holy shit,” he mumbles as they pull apart, which, yeah, okay, isn’t the most romantic thing he could have said.  
  
“Happy anniversary, Hendo,” Adam whispers.

“Thanks. Anniversary of what, though?”

  
“It’s been five years today since you signed for Liverpool,” Adam says, still near enough that Jordan can feel his breath.

  
Suddenly things click into place.

  
“This was a date, wasn’t it,” he says quietly.

  
“If that’s okay,” Adam says back in just the same way.

  
The protagonists are getting married, not that either man can tell. Jordan pulls Adam back in again.

“Better'n okay, Ads,” he whispers before kissing him again.  
  


“Dinner, Hendo?”  
  


“Nandos?” Jordan asks, grinning.  
  


“No. I, uh, I’d like to cook for you. At mine, if that’s okay.”  
  


Jordan kisses him again.

“So how long have we been dating without me knowing?”

“Awhile, Jordan. It’s been awhile.”

“We’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for, then,” Jordan says with a grin.

 

They’re the last ones to leave the cinema.

Jordan’s hair’s the messiest it’s been since 2007, when he discovered the miracle of gel. Then again, Ads is no better, looking less than perfect for the first time Jordan can remember. But it doesn’t matter, not when they’re both smiling wide and walking close, hands brushing as they leave the cinema.


End file.
